


Who Breaks Hearts Like Gaston?

by SegaBarrett



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hunting trip, Implied Physical Abuse, M/M, Tent Sex, Unhealthy Friendship, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7577305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LeFou and Gaston spend some time together...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Breaks Hearts Like Gaston?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty & the Beast and I make no money from this.
> 
> A/N: Title is from a cut verse of "Gaston". Also, some of those tags took really gnarly, but Gaston and LeFou's dynamic is pretty dark when you think about it.

LeFou clung to one ideal, one mantra of sorts – that things would never change.

By that, of course, he mainly meant that things would never change between him and Gaston. Gaston was, of course, the most popular man in town, replete with admirers of all walks of life, but ever since they had been children together, there’d been something about LeFou that had made Gaston choose him.

At least, that was how LeFou chose to see it. Unwavering, unflinching choice, and one that would never change.

Even with all of this Belle business that Gaston was still going on about.

LeFou was hoping that the weekend would bring a brief vacation from the Belle mess. He wasn’t sure exactly why Gaston had decided that the only girl (well, if LeFou was honest, the only person) in town who didn’t want Gaston was the person he’d decided he wanted to shoot for, no pun intended.

It just seemed silly. After all, Gaston was the greatest hunter in the world, but this was like trying to shoot down a cloud or something.  
Though if anybody could shoot down a cloud, LeFou was quite certain that Gaston could.

If he was going to, this would be the weekend – it was the first week of hunting season, and as Gaston had stated, he was going to start it off with “a bang”.

The rifle and hunting bag that LeFou was carrying were nearly as big as he was. He had always been short, and Gaston had seemed to have sprung from the womb built like some sort of Greek God. Some things weren’t fair in life, but at least once Gaston had turned to LeFou one day and said, “You can sit here with me,” people hadn’t picked on him anymore. 

Well, in a way Gaston had. But only because he cared. That was his way.

Like letting LeFou carry his bag so that he could focus on more important things.

And it wasn’t going to be that long a walk to the tent, after all. Once LeFou carried the tent over, that was.

***

They’d gotten everything set up. Now, all that remained was to crash for the night so that in the morning they could rise with the sun and go looking for big game.

LeFou was bouncing as he ducked into the tent and plopped on his sleeping bag.

They were away from everything, truly away. The normal rules didn’t apply out here.

“I can’t wait, Gaston!” The words were spilling out of his mouth so quickly that he nearly toppled over on to his head. “I can’t wait to see you back in action again! I mean, that last time – oh gosh, you just – that buck didn’t even stand a chance!”

Usually, Gaston would chime in, agreeing with the flattery. This time, he was strangely silent. LeFou didn’t like it. He gazed over to see Gaston staring out the opening of the tent in the general direction of the sky as he stroked his very square, very manly chin.

“What are you thinking about, Gaston?”

He expected Gaston to come back with a quip about the fact that he didn’t bother thinking about things, just winning against them (he was so manly that way), but instead it took a long while for him to answer.

“They’re all going to know now,” he said, and LeFou wasn’t sure what he meant, but also wasn’t sure whether the right move was to ask or just to keep listening. He decided on the latter, because a pensive Gaston was something he hadn’t seen often and honestly didn’t really know how to deal with.

“Know what?” LeFou asked, but just as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he knew with a sinking feeling that the Belle train was back on track. Couldn’t he stop thinking, or talking, about her for just one moment? She didn’t seem to be making Gaston very happy already, so why would he want to marry her? Just to prove that he could? He didn’t need to prove anything to LeFou, and as for the rest of the town… LeFou didn’t care much about the rest of the town.

“Know that a mere woman shut down Gaston! I’m nothing now! Nothing! I should just… I should just walk off into the woods and never return. I should join a colony of deer.”

“…As what? Like, the world’s biggest buck?”

Gaston grinned widely.

“Well, I do have the world’s biggest.”

LeFou let out a sigh of relief. There it was, a glimmer of the old Gaston floating around in there somewhere, under the disappointment and dreams of… of what, exactly?

“Gaston,” LeFou spoke up, plopping down to sit on a root that had been half ripped out of the ground. “What did you see in Belle, anyway?”

Gaston paused and furrowed his brow; LeFou knew he was thinking it over again. 

“She’s the most beautiful girl in town,” Gaston said, and even though he’d said it before, there was a certain thrill to the fact that he’d only called her the most beautiful girl in town.

Then again, LeFou pointed out to himself, that was probably because Gaston considered himself the most beautiful person in town. Which wasn’t not-true, of course. It was just, if there was maybe…

No, that was a pipe dream, and one LeFou had no time for. Gaston waited for nobody, least of all him.

“But… why?” LeFou asked, “What makes her the most beautiful girl in town? I mean you could have any other… you could have anybody else you wanted, Gaston. Just because she’s blind doesn’t mean – well, I mean…” He was about to start stammering, falling over his words, and there was nothing good about that. He needed to cut to the chase – that was what Gaston had always said. “Forget about her.”

“I don’t know how!” Gaston exclaimed, standing up quickly and giving the tent a quick jab that almost made the entire structure collapse. 

LeFou, if he had given himself another few minutes, would have talked himself out of what he did next – or then again, maybe he wouldn’t have. Gaston was the most important thing, and being Gaston’s friend – his best friend, in the whole world – was the most important thing. Without Gaston, who was LeFou, anyway? He had no other friends; the three blonde beauties only hung around because of Gaston after all, and to count them as friends he would need to redefine the word.

“I can help you forget.” 

The words came out much more confidently than LeFou had pictured them in his head, as if it was another LeFou speaking, maybe a taller one.

Gaston didn’t speak at first, which sent LeFou’s brain into overdrive. That hadn’t been the right thing, definitely not – you didn’t just get in Gaston’s face like that and make a claim that you could make Gaston do anything, and helping him was just one step up from saying that you could make him do something – nobody helped Gaston unless he chose to let you help him, and even then… well, there seemed to be a process, almost. Only a few were chosen.

“How?”

Gaston’s voice was lower than LeFou had thought it would be, lower than he had ever heard it. It sent a shiver down LeFou’s spine, and he wasn’t sure if that was because it was new and scary or because it was new and beautiful and thrilling.

It must be the latter, because Gaston was always thrilling. But he tended to be scary, too. Unpredictable. Violent.

“Let me show you.”

There must have been a voice that came in behind him, for LeFou couldn’t have just said that. It was far too… sultry, maybe? Like something one of the blondes would say. Maybe he should just reach up into the sky and snatch the phrase back – but he wasn’t as fast as Gaston and could never be, so that was impossible.

He turned, ready to walk all the way home. Gaston was probably about to pick him up and toss him out of the tent anyway. At least he might still have some daylight left if he went now, and by the next time Gaston saw him, maybe he would be drunk enough to forget that they had ever had this conversation. 

The pause that followed hung in the air, and LeFou felt as if he was running to catch another duck that had fallen out of the sky. It was coming right towards him.

When Gaston didn’t throw him out, when he in fact gave him a slightly, tentative nod and then walked closer to him, LeFou let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He must have shut his eyes, because when he opened them again, Gaston had lifted him up by the shirt and was staring at him with a wondering look in his eyes.

“Do it,” he grunted, “Make me forget.”

LeFou tried not to think about it, tried not to think about how this could all go horribly wrong if he messed up, and to be clear, he was always messing up. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Gaston’s, that seemed to be what people did in this kind of thing.

Not that LeFou had ever kissed anyone before – even his parents hadn’t in a very long time; for as long as he could remember he was just a frustration to them, someone to be told to go out and do something that wasn’t here in the house. And so he would go out, and in the outside he would always find Gaston.

He was shy at first, brushing his lips against Gaston’s with a worry that this would be bad, that he would be bad at it. 

He felt Gaston’s hands grip his shoulders, nearly crushing them and forcing their lips closer together. It was hard to breathe, and all he could smell was Gaston. He smelled like sweat and dirt and something unattainable. Something perfect, unflappable. 

LeFou knew that wherever this was going, Gaston wasn’t going to miss a shot. 

Gaston proceeded to put him back on the ground. The tent was nice for shelter, but it didn’t really do much about the dirt ground, and some twigs were digging into LeFou’s back. 

He didn’t care about that, though. He was here with Gaston and there was nothing else in the world. There had never been anything else in the world, not for him at least.

There were two types of people, LeFou thought to himself as he stared up at Gaston, tracing the pitch black ponytail and narrowed, deep eyes in his mind. There were people who did things and then people who watched.

Gaston stood up tall (not that he could stand up much other way) and flexed a muscle.

“Oh, LeFou,” he said, “You’re so lucky. People would kill to be in your position right now.”

His position was, indeed, a favored one, even if the sticks were still poking him and even if a beetle was walking happily across his lower stomach. Sacrifices needed to be made when it came to what was really important, after all.

Gaston reached down and pulled off LeFou’s coat in one yank, followed by his shirt, which he didn’t bother to unbutton. Getting it back on might be a task, but LeFou wasn’t going to think about that. Not right now.

LeFou didn’t bother to look down at his chest. He knew what he would see there; he was pasty and thin. He’d look up at Gaston instead, who was ripping off his own shirt with glee. His smile was wide and his perfect white teeth were shining.

He was intoxicating. 

“Gaston,” LeFou whispered, but he wasn’t sure if the taller man heard him. He was busy yanking at his own pants, now – no one undresses like Gaston, LeFou mused. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Now he was unbuttoning LeFou’s pants with a quick, frenzied motion. 

The next thing he knew, their lips were jammed back together and Gaston had spit in his hand. LeFou felt giddy. This was something new, something he had never done before, something maybe no one had really done before because they were so, so close and it was…

The smaller man shut his eyes as he felt Gaston push inside of him. The other man was huge, and the whole thing was overwhelming and it hurt more than a little. But, LeFou qualified, that was what it took to be with Gaston, to be around him. The man was rough and tough and what was that saying again – no pain, no gain?

He reached out and tried to press his hands to Gaston’s back. It was so stiff, so slick with sweat. He could hear Gaston grunting in his ear and he pushed everything away, the pain, the worry about what this would mean after (would they have to do this all the time? It seemed like it would be a little sore), even the happy feelings – belonging, that was one he was always chasing.

It felt as if they were floating together, outside this small town that he had never dreamed he would leave, up into a cloud.

LeFou felt empty when Gaston pulled back out. His eyes were half-lidded as he suddenly felt drowsy, like he wanted to hang on but something was pulling him away. Sleep, he didn’t want to sleep now, he wanted to talk, to find out if it had all just happened or if it had been a dream.

Then Gaston clapped his hands right next to LeFou’s head.

“No time to sleep now, LeFou! We need to go bag a dear before it’s too late!”

LeFou opened his eyes.

“Of course, Gaston! Let’s go!” 

He would just need to get dressed first, of course. Gaston was already doing so…

No one gets dressed like Gaston, LeFou thought to himself, but it didn’t quite have a ring to it.

But there were a lot of things that nobody did like Gaston. And he was sure he would find out more of them any day now.


End file.
